Chase City High School - Mirror Yearbook (Chase City, VA)

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THE MIRROR, 1922 Prophecy After graduating from colieg-e I traveled a great deal, and in all parts of the world. One night I was sitting alone, thinking over school days, and I began to wonder what had become of my high school friends, the members of the Class of ' 22. I happened to be in the Far East, in Egypt, so I decided to consult that wisest of all oracles, the Sphinx. Slipping away from my hotel in th dead of night, I plowed my way through the drifted white sand toward the grim figure in the dis¬ tance. The moon overhead, almost full, shed o’er all the strange sapphire light peculiar to Oriental nights. Far to the right the pyramids appeared, a faint purplish pink, and here and there a palm tree stood out distinctly against the luminous background. When at last I came near, the face held a mocking expression. Strange, mystical, pos¬ sessing the wisdom of the ages; its calm, pene¬ trating, all-wise face looked straight at me, and its gaze seemed to cast a spell upon me. The mocking expression changed, and from the lips, silent for ages, came queer sounds and whis¬ perings. Imagine my joy when I understood that the Sphinx was going to give me a glimpse of the scroll of the future! “I care not to break my proverbial silence, but I will endow thee with the power of fore¬ sight. Look! behold what is to be.” Listen then, while I disclose to you those visions of that quiet, mysterious moonlight night on the desert! My head reels, scenes chase wildly through my brain until suddeny the haze lifts, revealing e, land of cherry blossoms, where tiny almond- eyed children are seated on the floor of what is evidently a mission school, busily studying under the direction of a gentle instructor, our class¬ mate, Rose Jackson. Next I see a prosperous ranch in Texas with herds of cattle in the fields and the proud owner standing by, who, when he turned was none other than Elvin Adams! Now I see an immense room and row upon row of spotless white beds, each holding some unfortunate person. Here a girl groaned and the quiet nurse laid a cool, gentle hand on her head and spoke a few kind words in a voice I recognized instantly as Violet Hester ' s. Not far away a girl’s school is opening for the fall and scores of pretty girls are arriving. The old ones gathered around the adored Latin teacher, and the new ones instantly learned to love her, for the sweet winning ways of Lila Dedmon have not changed since we were in C. C. H. S. together. An office door appears in a medical building in Chicago and I see: B. M. BOWERS Dentist 1 learn that he has made a great success in the professional world, but then I wasn ' t sur¬ prised, for we all knew that Monroe would make good. I see now a pretty little bungalow in Los Angeles and an efficient little mistress busily getting dinner for her husband, who is succes¬ sor to Rudolph Valentino in the movies. This was our tiny, dark-haired Nellie Moore. The movie lots appeared before my eyes and imagine my surprise to see crowds gathered around watching a comedy in the making. The comedian was, of course, Raymond Geoghegan. the joker of high school days, now far more noted than Charlie Chaplin. Soon I see an eager audience in a large opera house in New York expectantly waiting for the performer of the evening. Such applause as the small figure enters, and as the violet light flashes on her I see Agnes Gregory, who is now a great and world-renowned singer. Then a studio appeals and on the door in important black letters: HELEN MOSS Illustrator 1 ' pon going in I find that her pal. Lorena Bry¬ ant, stays with her and has recently completed her sixth amazingly popular book which Helen illustrated for her. I next see the Senate Chamber in Washington, and, lo, who should be speaking but Cooper Ponton, one of Virginia’s senators. In Boston I watch throngs of people crowd into the opera house, but this time the star is a famous toe dancer, who greatly excels Pavlova, 1 am told. She trips daintily in, dressed to represent a butterfly, which she does strikingly, and commences one of her original dances, full of charm and grace. The performer is—yes— Abbye Edward . Now I seem to be in a strange land where people are gaily dressed, and dark-eyed, very fascinating. One dear familiar sight appears, our own dear Stars and Stripes waving from a building, and upon going in I see Rufus Mad¬ dux, the President of the Class of ’22, who is now Ambassador to Spain. Next I see a kindergarten and a teacher sur¬ rounded by a number of admiring tots, all try¬ ing to sit next to Miss Brame,” and sure enough ' twas Annie Laurie, as neat and quiet aj usual. A whirring noise comes to my ear and I again am in the quiet village street and I glance up to see a hydroplane lighting in water near by. I become one of the excited group gathering around and receive the amazing information that he is just landing from his trip around the world! As the tall aviator alights from his machine I see Carroll Willis, who. -after so many years has abandoned automobiles for something which travels faster and does not have punc¬ tures! Suddenly tinkling music, balmy air, pale moonlight and gondolas g.iding slowly up the silvery waterways and I see Lucile Adams su¬ premely happy, here in Venice on her honey¬ moon. Now a courtroom scene and J. Watkins Goode presiding over the court. 1 find that our old friend Dick is now Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. Then I enter a small, dark room with numer¬ ous telescopes sitting about and an astronomer interestedly studying the planets, whom 1 recog¬ nize as Bertie Yates, with the same bright smile and good disposition. In the same town I see Linda Thomasson, the happy wife of one of the prominent men, composing popular songs which have already endeared her to the hearts of all. Lastly I see an intensely familiar scene, our own little Chase City. But it has changed some. How much more prosperous and neat looking, and what lovely smooth streets! Upon inquir¬ ing I find that it took place under the direc¬ tion of the efficient mayor. Asking for an in¬ troduction to this acknowledged leader I am surprised at not needing one, for the tall attrac¬ tive suffragette, in her dark tailored suit and sailor hat, was—yes—Madge Wood! Then the scene fades and I am again motion¬ less before the Sphinx. Rosy tints are appear¬ ing in the east while the great moon slowly fades. I hear the sepulchral voice murmur. Go tell all you have seen.” So this, class¬ mates, is the message of the Sphinx. HELEN ROBERTSON. Page llveiily

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THE MIRROR, 1922 HO iiiflnuTlHtunjunniuiilikliiii My Diary September, 1918 I ' ve come to the Valley of Freshmen, Tall hills seem to hang over me; There are wonderful gardens about me, And paths leading upward I see. I am told I am here for a season. That at once I must start the long climb. That each task I accomplish will lead me Nearer the summits sublime. I am told that the lessons I master Are stepping stones up to the height; I must learn how to work in the valley, I must learn how to do with a might. My guides are loving and faithful. They help over rocks every day, And show me the pitfalls and canyons, Yet, alone, I must follow the way! September, 1919 By work and by following the guides I have reached the Sophomore Plain; ' Tis not far from the Valley of Freshmen And I climbed this plateau to gain. I look up, the ascent is steeper. And no more as a child I behold The beauties of hill and valley, The riches of silver and gold. The prospect is brighter and fairer, The top of the hill is in view. And the lessons I learned in the valley Inspire as my way I pursue. My guides give strength and good courage, I fall, and I show them the scars, They tell me ' tis only the rough ways That will lead one up to the stars. September, 1920 I’m up on the Plateau of Juniors, The ascent has been long, I declare; There are rough stones ahead in the pathway! But how pure and how sweet is the air! I look at the rough way behind me. How long and how tiresome it seemed. Yet the glories now spread round about me Are grander than ever 1 dreamed. The tasks here are heavy and harder. Yet ambition has grown in the night. And I must not slip back to the valley When I am so near to the height. September, 1921 At la st I’m in sight of the hill-top, One more victory now must be won; I must steadily climb and not falter. Each task must be worthily done. Tho each step is harder and steeper New light is beginning to shine; On this the last lap of the journey The work and the climbing are fine. Ah! here 1 stand on the hill-top. My comrades and I look around. The view is entrancing and lovely, And our thoughts are deep and profound! Our guides bid us look to the vista Of mountains that lift to the sky; They give hope and call this Commencement, And we listen and question why June, 1922 Ah, because the fuller life beckons Beyond are the hill-tops of power, The tall peaks of fame and of glory. Where the summits of sacrifice lower. Beyond are the Gardens of Service, Where Love has nourished the sod, And we reach the field of Achievement On the top of the mountains o f God. Lucile T. Adams. Page nineteen

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THE MIRROR, 1922 I’agc Itvenly-onc